Of Balloons and Regrets
by Akele
Summary: In which Castiel remembers a bit of advice from a brother and regrets not listening. Rated T for some violence. If you squint REALLY hard, you might see a teensy bit of Destiel in later chapters.
1. The Betrayal

**A/N: My second fanfiction! This idea came to me after attending the hot-air balloon festival last week. *This story takes place somewhere in season 6, but before Rachel dies (feel free to imagine the timeline)* A bit of Cas bashing, but we only hurt the ones we truly love, sooo... Also, I'd like to thank my beta VTCentaurea for encouraging me to write. Enjoy =D**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I do NOT own Supernatural. Though not a day goes by when I don't wish I did...**

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><p>Castiel knew he had been betrayed. He also was well aware that he was walking into a trap when he was summoned to Earth by one of his followers. However, none of that made seeing his formerly faithful brother any less painful.<p>

Ezra stood several arms length away from Castiel. No weapon was present, but Cas knew that no angel was ever without his sword. He just prayed neither of them would be forced to use theirs.

"Brother, hear me out!" Ezra pleaded whole-heartedly. "Raphael is right! Perhaps God has left us because we stood up against his Plan! If you surrender to our brother then we can return this world to our Father's Plan, and all will be well again!"

Castiel watched his younger brother with sad eyes, a sigh escaping his barely parted lips. Ezra was very young compared to him, so he had never truly gotten the chance to know their Father's love or even his Will. The angel had eagerly joined Castiel's fight, although Cas suspected it was more out of his love for him than his desire for free will. Castiel had always been there for Ezra, teaching his brother how to cherish God's creations. The strength of their bond only made the current situation all the more difficult for the elder angel's weary being.

"Ezra…" Castiel slowly began. "You know that I love our Father, but I cannot allow Raphael to restart the Apocalypse. Millions of humans would die, and I can't let that happen."

Sadness filled the younger angel's eyes, and he shook his head as if he could not accept his sibling's answer. "You will not back down?"

"I will not."

"Then you really are giving us no other choice." Ezra's eyes briefly flickered to the space behind Castiel before returning to gaze at his brother sorrowfully. "I am sorry, brother."

The sound of wings descending was the only warning Castiel had before he was suddenly attacked from behind. He had been expecting as much, though, and quickly spun to face his assailant (a follower of Raphael, Dov). The angel stabbed at Cas with his angel sword, and Castiel barely managed to avoid the blow. Dov was a high ranking warrior and therefore was well trained in both weapons and hand to hand combat. However, Castiel knew quite a bit about the art of combat, and he soon disarmed his brother. Before Dov could recover, Castiel manifested his own angel sword and stabbed the angel through his vessel's heart. With a remorseful look, Castiel allowed his brother to fall and, in a burst of pure white light, Dov was no more.

Another sound of fluttering wings and Ezra had vanished. Castiel stared at the spot where he had once stood, silently wondering how things had ever gotten so out of hand. A civil war in Heaven? A few years ago Castiel never would have imagined such a thing would have been possible, and yet he was quite truthfully the very cause of it. That thought aside, Ezra would have to be dealt with. He could not be allowed to return to Raphael and divulge the secrets of the rebellion.

Castiel was just about to return to Heaven and inform Rachel of the betrayal when Ezra unexpectedly reappeared behind him. He sensed his brother's presence and immediately turned to face him, but he was not given time to speak or attack. Before Castiel could make another move, an angel sword was stabbed downward into his left shoulder. The blade was only buried half way into his flesh before his reflexes kicked in and he forcefully shoved Ezra away. The younger angel was sent flying into a concrete column where he remained slumped over, momentarily stunned.

Light peeked out from Castiel's wound, dampened only by the sword that was still impaled in him. The pain seared through him, feeling as if his Grace was being torn apart and burnt all at once. Still, Castiel did not hesitate to pull out the sword and quickly turn it onto his dazed brother. Castiel threw the blade, striking Ezra square in the chest. In another flash of light, one more of his siblings had died.

Cas clamped a hand over his injury, not bothering to suppress a moan. He fell to his knees and wondered if the wound was fatal, if he would die right then and there with his already fallen brothers. It certainly felt as though his Grace would burst and disintegrate at any moment. Another wave of pain hit him, causing him to curl into himself in a futile effort to hold himself together.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He wasn't dead yet, but he would be very soon if he was found by more of Raphael's soldiers. Surely Doz had only been the first of Ezra's backup; however, as long as Castiel could escape to somewhere safe, he a chance at recovering. He just had to get away.

Castiel struggled to his feet with determination to survive. A mixture of pain and sadness reflected in his eyes as he looked once more at the lifeless vessels of his brothers, and then he unfurled his unseen wings and vanished. He was in too much pain to consciously select his destination, so he ended up drifting between Heaven and Earth. As he searched for the one person he trusted most, his awareness began to slip. Before he could make the effort to appear before Dean, Castiel had fallen into a state where his thoughts and presence could not be sensed – not even by him.


	2. The Dream

**A/N: Hello any and all! It's only been what, a day or two since I updated? Well, I actually have this fic almost completed, but I'm trying to wait a while between chapters to see if I can get anybody to review and ask for more (hint hint, wink wink). So I figured I could go ahead and post this small chapter to see if I got a reaction from all you silent readers! This isn't a library, you don't have to be so quiet! Give me your thoughts =D Oh, and please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I'm just a faithful viewer who writes these stories for the entertainment of others and herself. All characters belong to Eric Kripke and the CW network.**

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><p>The grass was cut short to just the right length and its perfect shade of green reflected the brilliant sunlight, giving the rolling hills of the field a picture perfect appearance. Above, the blue sky provided a beautiful home for cotton-ball clouds that seemed like something out of a storybook. Wildflowers of various colors and varieties decorated the hills, completing the serene scene. Well, almost completing it.<p>

A hot-air balloon – colored with red, yellow, and green stripes – floated lazily through the perfectly calm atmosphere. Its occupant stood at the rim, watching with a child's eyes as the rainbow speckled field passed by.

Down on the ground, two angels stood at the height of a small hill, their celestial forms glowing with the light of their Grace. One was slightly smaller than the other with a glow that was not quite as bright. For a long time, they both stood side by side, content with watching the calm day of a balloonist's heaven.

Finally, the taller angel spoke, though his sight never left the hovering balloon. "Castiel, what do you think of our older brothers?"

The smaller angel glanced curiously at his brother, but soon returned his gaze to the balloon. There was something about the colorful hot-air balloon meandering through the blue sky that calmed him, which made it easier to answer the question truthfully.

"I believe they are very strong, and they lead us with kindness and God's Word. They are our brothers, Gabriel. I love them just as I love our Father and His creations."

"You have always cared for the humans, Cas," Gabriel chuckled, patting his younger brother on the back. "Dad would be proud of you."

Castiel felt his Grace brighten at the compliment. "Thank you, brother."

Once more, the two slipped into a comfortable silence. The light of Heaven shone brilliantly down on them, and they enjoyed its warmth. After a while, Castiel thought his time with his older brother was coming to an end. He was about to report back to his garrison when Gabriel decided to speak again.

"Ya know, little brother, you've got a good heart," the archangel began. He paused, as it to consider his next words before continuing. "If there ever comes a time when you've gotta make a decision, remember this: true strength only comes with teamwork. Believe me when I say, Cas, a group of people working together towards the right cause can achieve so much more than a single man standing alone."

The younger angel looked at his brother, truly confused. Gabriel was never known to be so serious, and Castiel could not help but wonder if his words held a deeper meaning. However, before Castiel could ask him, Gabriel's solemn mood had vanished.

"I've got an idea!" Gabriel suddenly declared, giving his younger sibling a mischievous look. "Cassy, I know just what you need!"

Instantly the thought of their previous conversation erased itself from Castiel's mind, replaced by mild irritation that was also quickly stamped out by the angel. "Please don't call me that," he murmured, knowing that it didn't really matter how much he protested the childish nickname.

Gabriel laughed whole-heartedly. "You've got to lighten up, little brother! Come on; let's take a trip in one of those babies!"

Castiel followed his brother's gaze to another hot-air balloon. It was all white except for the golden angels holding hands around it. Fully inflated, it sat at the top of the highest hill, almost as though it were beckoning to them. Knowing full well he had other duties to perform, Castiel was hesitant.

"Gabriel, I must report to Zachariah before…"

"Nah, old Zach can wait!" The archangel all put pushed his brother towards the balloon, his Grace glowing with excitement. "Today, my brother, you learn about a little thing the humans call 'fun'!"

Despite his protests, the younger angel quickly found himself inside of the balloon's basket, standing beside his persistent sibling. Castiel continued attempting to talk himself out of the situation until the basket was no longer touching the ground, and then he was suddenly silent. Gabriel leaned over the rim, thoroughly enjoying the fresh breeze gently blowing against them. After several minutes of lazily drifting through the sky, Castiel found himself staring down at the beautiful field. He was amazed at how much brighter the colors looked from above. A pair of doves landed on the basket's frame beside him, and the young angel's Grace brightened with his happiness.

Although Gabriel appeared to not be paying his little brother any mind, he was truthfully watching him the entire time. He noticed Castiel visibly relax, and he noticed when his Grace flared with joy at seeing the two doves. The older angel smiled softly to himself, glad that his brother could be happy without having to worry about orders – even if only for just a little while.

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><p><strong>AN: I found this quote and it is what inspired Gabriel's advice to Cas... Thought I'd give credit to where it's due. **_"Unity is strength... when there is teamwork and collaboration, wonderful things can be achieved."_ ~Mattie Stepanek


	3. Of Balloons

**A/N: First off, I apologize for the crappy ending of the last chapter. Could've been better, but these parts have been written for a while and I didn't feel like going back and editing, sorry ^^' I hope this one is a bit better. The next chapter might be a little bit longer til it gets posted because I actually still have to write that one, and I have yet to learn NOT to watch Destiel videos before writing X) Also, thanks to all those who have reviewed! Criticism is always appreciated as long as it's kind =) Enjoy!~**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Supernatural. SPN and all its characters belong to the CW network and Eric Kripke.**

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><p>Castiel awoke to find himself slouched on the ground beneath a large maple tree. He could sense a vast forest behind him, but before him laid a field of trimmed grass as far as his human eyes could see. People crowded the pasture half a mile away, sitting in fold-up chairs and picnic tables as they conversed. The sky was dim; it must have been around eight in the evening if he was still in Central America.<p>

With a grunt of pain, Cas forced himself to his feet, using the tree beside him for support. His wound had barely healed and an aching throb pulsed just as it had when he had first received the injury. He tried to concentrate in an effort to heal it, but his attempt proved useless. What Castiel needed was time, and he was worried that that was the one thing he did not have.

A thought suddenly occurred to the angel. He could ask Crowley for shelter. The self-proclaimed King of Hell had many facilities that were painted with wards against angels. However, the idea was quickly dismissed. Castiel resented the thought of asking the demon for refuge.

There was always Dean.

No, never. Castiel couldn't drag his friend into his war. Dean had already dealt with enough throughout his entire life; it wouldn't be fair for the angel to bring him into another fight. Yet, had Dean not already gotten himself involved?

A weary sigh escaped Castiel's lips and the wind responded almost comically by gently rustling the leaves of the trees. Cas did not pay them any mind, though. With his eyes closed, he leaned back against the maple's thick trunk, losing himself in deep thought.

When he had lost awareness, he could have sworn he had _dreamt_. It had been more than a dream, though; it had been a memory. A memory from very long ago when he had just acquired a position that surpassed his brother, Uriel. He remembered the balloonist's heaven, and he remembered standing in the field beside Gabriel. He especially remembered the joyful feeling he got from sailing up in one of the balloons. However, he had forgotten his elder brother's words to him that day until now. Now they rang clear in his mind, and their meaning was borderline ironic.

"_True strength only comes with teamwork… A group of people working together towards the right cause can achieve so much more than a single man standing alone."_

Yet where did Castiel stand now? Alone – or at least in his eyes he was. Dean would tell him he was not alone, but Castiel had left the human out of so much just to keep him happy. Crowley was Cas's "business partner", but the angel hardly felt any sense of closeness with the demon. He fought alongside his brothers and sisters almost every day, and if he was not fighting with them then he was commanding their movements, or on Earth torturing some poor soul into disclosing the location of Purgatory. Even in Heaven, none of his siblings knew of his true plan to win the war.

He was alone. That truth alone was enough to numb the gnawing pain of his wound.

An unexpected applause arose from the field, drawing Castiel's attention. The humans were cheering as near a dozen hot-air balloons lifted off into the night sky. Their clamor died down as the balloons drifted a bit higher, and all the while Castiel watched with distant eyes. He stared at the balloons as if he were watching the balloonist in Heaven again – eyes full of longing and sadness that could only be acquired over the centuries.

Had Gabriel called him to that heaven all those years ago to warn him of this day? How could the archangel have known? Castiel realized that those questions were meaningless now since they could not change anything. However, he did know that Gabriel had given him advice, a warning, and he had ignored it. It pained him deeply to have done so, betraying the words of a brother he so admired – especially now that Gabriel was no more…

"On the count of three!" a man's voice bellowed over a speaker. "One, two… three!"

Suddenly the crowd of humans cheered loudly, shouting to the sky, "Glow!"

The instant the word lifted through the air, all the hot-air balloons in the sky lit their fires. For a few seconds, the heavens were illuminated beautifully by the lanterns.

_Gabriel, my brother… _Castiel prayed silently, watching with mournful eyes as the balloons lit up once more at the command of the crowd. _I was a fool to have forgotten your words... and perhaps I am even more the fool for going against them, but I can't stop now. This is the only way. Brother, how ashamed you must be of me._

"Glow!" the humans called. Once again, the balloons lit up a brilliant golden shine that illuminated the velvet sky as if they were oversized stars.

Castiel watched silently, the ache of his wound forgotten and replaced by a much more profound grief. The feeling of remorse was so sudden, Castiel could not hide it. Painfully, he lowered his head as he tried to compose himself. After a long moment, he raised his eyes again to look at the stars. When he spoke, his voice was just barely above a whisper.

"Gabriel, I am sorry."

The sound of angel wings filled the silent forest and claimed Castiel's attention from the human festival. He instantly sensed the presence of Raphael's soldiers. Forced from his daydream, Cas staggered away from his tree and into the open field where an ambush would be less likely. As he prepared himself for a rough battle, the pain in his injury suddenly flared, sending sharp barbs of fire into his being. Castiel cried out as the pain caught him by surprise. No sooner had he silenced himself did three angels appear from the dark shadows of the forest. All of them stared intently at him as he stumbled several steps back.

Each of Raphael's angels manifested their swords. Castiel did not think about where he was going; he just vanished.

As it happened, his instincts took him farther than he would have thought. Castiel ended up two states over in Ohio, stumbling across a back country road until he fell against an empty 1967 Chevy Impala. Exhausted and weak beyond the reaches of his Grace, the angel let himself into the backseat of the car and collapsed. He used the blood from his still open and bleeding wound to trace a sigil on a window. Though Castiel knew full well that the owner of the vehicle would be less than happy to see blood smeared on the car, Cas also knew his friend would understand. Or at least he hoped so.

Once the sigil was in place, Castiel's now quivering arm fell down to hang from the seat as the rest of him lay still. The edges of his vision were dusted with black specks that only appeared to be getting thicker and thicker. His whole body felt as if he were floating, though he knew he was perfectly still. And the pain of his Grace pouring from his injury almost as profusely as the blood of his vessel was numbing. Somehow, he managed to stay conscious long enough to hear two people climb into the front seats.

The front car doors shut simultaneously and the engine roared to life soon after. Dean Winchester, sitting in the driver's seat, muttered something about ghouls as Sam bandaged himself. All the while Castiel remained unnoticed, and he watched, bleary eyed, from the backseat. They started driving down the road, but whatever they spoke about did not make any sense to the angel.

Sam was the first to notice their visitor as he turned around to toss the rest of the bandages into the back. The younger Winchester's reaction was swift and unoriginal:

"What the hell…!"

Dean turned around as much as he could while keeping the Impala in a straight line. His response pleased Castiel a bit more for it held more concern – and, of course, Dean used his nickname.

"Cas?"

Satisfied that he had successfully made it to safety, Castiel almost eagerly welcomed the darkness that crept at the corners of his vision. The last thing the angel saw was his human friend frantically pulling over to the side of the road, shouting questions and commands for the angel to stay awake.

Staying awake, however, was one order Castiel could not comply to. Not even for Dean.


	4. And Regrets

**A/N: I know, I know. I'm late updating... but I have a relatively good reason! I couldn't get this chapter to sound right, and in my mind it just doesn't read well. So I've looked it over and over, but I can't figure out what's wrong with it. Consider this a rough draft because if I get any good suggestions as to how to improve it then I'll probably edit it then reupload. Still, you all deserve to see what I've got so far rather than wait a month until I finally get past this writer's block, sooo... Enjoy! (and sorry for the shortness; again, writer's block, bleh)**

**Warning: If you squint really REALLY hard then you might see a teensy bit of Destiel. My friend thinks so, but I don't. Just thought I'd let you know ;)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, yatta yatta... all rights belong to series creator Eric Kripke and the CW network.**

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><p>Truth be told, Cas had expected to never awake again. When the endless depths of darkness had swallowed his consciousness he thought he had died and that was what it was like to no longer exist. There was no light, no sound, none of anything in the abyss he drifted through.<p>

Then suddenly there was pain – burning pain that tore him apart and ate at the darkness. Castiel felt as though he was about to explode from the inside. He tried to scream, to call out for help, but he couldn't tell if he had a mouth to scream with. He wasn't even sure if he was still in his vessel, there was just no way to tell.

Without warning, the darkness faded quickly and abandoned Castiel in a world of blurred light and aching numbness. Somewhere in the back of his groggy mind he realized that he had a physical form, that he was somehow still in his vessel. Moving very slowly, he tried to lift up his hands to make sure everything was intact (and real), but a sharp pain in his left shoulder stopped him before he could even twitch a finger. The angel felt his head roll back against something pleasingly comfortable as he huffed out a pained sigh.

"Dean, I think he's awake," a voice called softly. Castiel recognized it as Sam Winchester, but he couldn't see the man. His eyelids felt too heavy to lift.

Whatever it was that Cas was laying on suddenly dipped slightly to his left as Dean's voice called out to him.

"Cas? Earth to Castiel! Come on, buddy… how many fingers am I holding up?"

He didn't want to, but Castiel slowly forced his eyes to open enough to look at what was directly ahead of him. At first he only saw a poorly painted ceiling, but after he lazily lifted his head he noticed a hand hovering before his face with one unmistakable finger held up.

"One," the angel responded in his low, gravelly tone. "And I don't find that very funny, Dean."

The Winchester quickly removed his hand and gave his younger brother an innocent shrug. Sam rolled his eyes before addressing Castiel.

"So, Cas, what happened?"

At first, Castiel wasn't even sure what had happened himself; but as he tried to remember, it all came back to him like a violent wind. The angel sat up suddenly, his eyes wide open, and cringed when his shoulder began to burn. Vaguely, he realized he was on a bed in an obviously cheap motel room. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed Castiel was currently occupying, giving the angel a worried look as he eased him back against the pillows.

"Whoa! Easy there, Superman – you just about got your heart skewered, so chill out for one minute!" Dean chided. Castiel wasn't about to calmingly "chill out", though.

Cas looked over to Sam, ignoring Dean for the moment. "Have you sealed the room?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we've put wards up on the walls." – the younger Winchester's voice took on an accusing tone – "What's going on here, Cas? Judging by the mark you left on the Impala, you're running from angels, but why?"

"I was betrayed by… by one of my brothers," Castiel explained solemnly. "He… defected and led Raphael's soldiers to me. I foolishly let my guard down and…" Cas met Dean's gaze, trying his best to appear apologetic. "I'm sorry for what I did to your car, Dean."

The elder Winchester hadn't been expecting an apology. Caught off guard, his stern expression fell and he patted Castiel's leg in a reassuring gesture. "Don't worry about it – nothing a bit of good ol' fashion soap and water can't fix," Dean insisted. "You just heal up so none of Raphael's toy soldiers can get the jump on you, alright?"

Cas nodded his agreement and allowed himself to relax, which surprisingly wasn't as hard as he would have thought. Dean got up to sit on the end of the bed, putting an end to any added comments to the conversation. A moment passed with Sam looking between his brother and the angel before clearing his throat with a sense of purpose.

"Okay then, I'm going to get some food," he announced, immediately losing Castiel's attention at the mention of food. "Dean, you want the usual?"

"Yup."

"Alright. I'll be back in a bit."

The motel room door clicked shut as Sam left. Cas heard the Impala start up out front, and he listened in silence as the roar of its engine faded into the distance. As soon as Sam had left, Dean had turned on the TV and began flipping through the channels. With nothing else to keep him occupied and unable to go to sleep, Castiel laid his head back, closed his eyes, and listened to the various sounds of Dean's channel surfing.

Several minutes passed in relative silence. It wasn't long at all before Castiel's thoughts began to drift. Images of his brothers and sisters laid out dead before him flashed through his mind. Ezra's death stuck out the most since it had been the most recent, and the picture of his little brother impaled against the cold concrete column added more pain to Castiel's already aching body. Cas knew it was necessary and that he truly had no other choice, but there was that voice bothering him – that small voice always whispering to him from the back of his psyche, always reminding him of the war he had begun.

Raphael had given him an ultimatum: bow down or die. Castiel, fueled by his own pride and assumption that everything he did was for the better, accepted help from a demon instead of seeking advice from the closest friend he had. Then, with the souls Crowley had given him, he had gone right back to Heaven and beat down his older brother, effectively throwing all of the angels into civil war. Never once did Cas ask one of his brothers or sisters on their thoughts about his tactic. Heck, he never even told them his real plan on how to win the fight he had started. But through all of that, there was one thing Castiel regretted the most.

He hated himself for not telling Dean.

Dean – the thought brought the angel's attention back to Earth. He opened his eyes and slowly sat himself up, ignoring how his wounded shoulder protested, and stared at the eldest Winchester's back. Dean was still sitting on the end of the bed, now settled in to watching an old cop movie on AMC. The human didn't appear to notice that Cas had moved.

Guilt weighed heavily down on Castiel's heart until the words that sat on the edge of his tongue fell from his mouth without thought. Although he was barely conscious of speaking, what he said held a significance that neither of them would completely understand until a later time.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean looked over his shoulder and frowned at the angel. "For what – the car? Don't worry about it, Cas."

Castiel hesitated in his response, not exactly certain he wanted to go down the road he was heading. "…No, that's not what I meant."

"Then what?" the Winchester turned around so he could speak to the angel directly. The two exchanged one of their long looks in which Castiel prayed Dean would somehow read his mind. After a long minute, Dean's eyes lit up as if he suddenly understood and he sighed.

"Listen, Cas… Sam and me, we're your friends, and friends look out for each other. We know you've got that angel war of yours and there's not much we can do to help, but we can at least give you a safe place to hold up in 'til you've gathered your feathers. That's what friends are for, Cas. So don't worry about being a burden, 'cause you're not."

Castiel had truthfully never thought of himself as a burden to the brothers. He had thoughts of how he interfered with their lives and possibly endangered them on several occasions, but the prospect of him being a burden had never occurred to the angel. And though Dean's little speech had nothing to do with what Cas was actually apologizing for, just knowing the hunter cared enough to watch out for him when he was injured was enough. It was not the understanding he had meant for; still, hearing Dean say what he said made the angel feel much more at ease.

Not wanting to start a possible argument (or perhaps not wanting to ruin his friendship with Dean), Castiel let the conversation drop and accepted the hunter's words with gratitude.

"Thank you, Dean."

"Don't mention it."


End file.
